It's sort of a Wonderful Life, Mr Schue
by timeworn grace
Summary: What if...?  Will wonders whether he's doing any good in the lives of his Glee club members. What if he'd never taken over running the Glee club?  Where would they be now?
1. Chapter 1

Will was getting used to coming home to a dark, empty apartment.

He dropped his keys into a bowl on the table near the door and himself onto his couch in the living room, burying his fingers in his curls as he kicked off his shoes and curled up against the arm of the couch.

Sectionals had very nearly been a total disaster. The ride up had been frankly depressing, with none of the kids showing any enthusiasm for the idea of performing together. All the way there, he'd been worried that the team would just fall apart. That they wouldn't be able to compete at all. After all they'd been through, just to keep glee club alive, after nearly losing the group altogether last year... to watch them fighting with each other right now and acting like the friendships they'd forged and the work they'd done meant _nothing_, broke his heart. The only ones who'd seemed up for it had been Quinn and Sam, and even there, he could tell Quinn had been quietly freaking out all the way there. And Lauren, who was kind of indifferent to the whole thing, and, he suspected, had just come along because she was being paid in candy bars and getting to hang off Puck's arm.

Rachel had nearly stormed out - not entirely unexpected, since she still did that with alarming regularity. No, that wasn't entirely fair, she had been better this year about things, especially since the whole mess with Sunshine had nearly sunk them before they'd even begun. And he had to admit, Santana and Finn could have handled it better. Something was up there, with Santana, and he didn't even know how to begin to figure that out. Might have to do with the fact that Brittany was dating Artie. Which led him to...

… whatever was going on with Artie, Brittany (Artie and _Brittany?_!) , Mike and Tina... which had nearly exploded as well, until they had figured out that it was all a misunderstanding. They'd all been at each other's throats all morning. It has been especially worrying because Mike and Brit were dancing together, and he knew how that affected Artie. Why did the kids all have to date within the group? It certainly made things complicated.

Mercedes had been practically silent all the way up, still reeling from the loss of her best friend. The empty seat beside her on the bus had been silently honored by the whole club: that was where Kurt should be, and no one else was ever going to take his place.

Then there was Puck... He was still afraid he was going to lose Puck. He was swinging wildly between anger and subdued... depression? Between whatever was going on with him that had driven him to the crime spree that had put him in juvie for several weeks, and the fact that what had happened with Kurt seemed to be affecting him more deeply than he cared to admit (and when had _that _started? Will distinctly remembered Puck being one of Kurt's chief tormentors not too long ago...)

And then there was Kurt. That empty seat on the bus had been painful for all of them, Will included, but not as painful as the moment the curtains had lifted and there he was. On stage, looking nervous, apprehensive, maybe even a little lost. (Background again, Will thought sadly. That voice, which he had only just begun to figure out himself how to use to its best effect, had been relegated to swaying in the background again. Their lead was good, he had to admit, but Kurt... was unique. Oh, well, too much to hope for the new transfer student to have earned a solo yet anyway.) Will had risked a glance around at this team as the performance began, as Kurt began to sing.

Thankfully, most of them looked, well, pleased to see him, especially since he looked... happy. More relaxed. And once Rachel and Finn started grinning encouragingly at him, he'd really perked up and gotten into the performance. Some of the others, though... He really couldn't tell what was going on with Puck. He was... glaring, kind of. Bug-eyed. Surprised? Angry? Hard to read, but clearly strongly affected.

Sure, they'd all pulled together and performed their hearts out... after he'd yelled at them. He wasn't sure, though, how often that would work. Or if he had it in him to do it again after whatever caused their next blowout.

He pulled the afghan folded across the top of the sofa down across his chest as he reached for the remote and turned the TV on. The volume was low, but he recognized the black-and-white images as they flickered across the screen. Funny, he'd have thought it would be a couple more weeks before they played this one...

He curled onto his side, only half-watching as he brooded. Sometime he wondered if he was doing any good at all with the glee club. Teaching was supposed to be about making a difference in the lives of these kids... what kind of a difference was he making?

A voice startled him out of his reverie. "Oh, Will... ever the idealist. These kids are all so wrapped up in their own drama, what kind of influence could you possibly have? Besides, you're a great example to them... how many women were you stringing along last year? Your own life is such a mess, Will, and here you are looking to 'make a difference' in theirs?"

Will stared at his... guest?... in outraged dismay. "_Brian Ryan?_ How did you get in here?"

"Oh, I have my ways, Will." Ryan stepped out from the shadows of the dining area, though he seemed somehow to drag those shadows behind him in his wake, looming behind him like a suggestion of midnight wings. "So, I have to ask, Will, how would you like to see what kind of a difference you have made in their lives? Would you really be willing to take a look, and see where they'd be without their precious club? Can your ego stand it if you find out that your little stars are shining even more brightly without you? "Sarcasm dripped from the words, almost palpable enough to pool at his feet.

Will sat up. Part of his brain was insisting that this made no sense at all, but he had to admit he was intrigued almost as much as he was annoyed. "Just how do you propose to do that, Brian?"

"Oh, as I said, I have my ways," Ryan said... almost purred. "Tell you what, I can be generous... I'll even let you decide which of your Lima losers you check in on first."

All right, Will thought, I'll play along. He'd been thinking particularly of Kurt all night... up there onstage with a different group, looking far happier than he'd seen him look since September- at a different school. Whose outburst over the Brittney issue should have clued Will in to the fact that something was desperately wrong, that the small torments of high school had recently become so much worse for Kurt, and more _direct._ How much of a difference had Will Schuester made for Kurt?

No sooner had he thought it than he found himself in the middle of a corridor in McKinley High School, in his rumpled suit and stocking feet. The corridor thronged with students. He looked around, dizzy, disoriented... he'd just been on his couch! "What the-?"

Brian Ryan was still standing beside him, and somehow still shrouded in shadow. Spooky. He laughed humorlessly. "You picked a student, we're here. You know the halls of old McKinley, Will. It's Monday morning. The Monday after Sectionals. Though, of course, your glee club didn't go to Sectionals... because it doesn't exist. "

A gaggle of girls headed right for them and Will instinctively went to move to one side, out of their way. Ryan reached out and grabbed his arm, holding him in place, and Will found he couldn't have moved if he wanted to. He winced as the girls bore down on them, so wrapped up in their gossip that they didn't seem to even see the two men... and then walked right through them. Will looked at Ryan - well, frankly, he gaped, and caught himself at it, irritated. "What just happened?"

"You wondered what kind of influence you had, so... I removed your influence. Removed you, actually. This is what their lives would be like, if you hadn't taken over glee club. This is where 'your' kids would be if you were an accountant like your wife wanted." He indicated a spot behind Will with a nod of his head. "Was this the one you were looking for? Oh... wouldn't be my first choice if you're looking to be cheered up."

Will turned around, expecting... well, he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really.

Kurt was walking down the corridor towards him. (And then walked through him. Most disconcerting.) Will turned to watch him. Kurt, still here, at McKinley. Will grinned as the boy stopped at his locker and opened it, sorting through his books.

The grin faded quickly, though, as he really looked at the boy. The differences in Kurt were... startling. He was dressed, well, pretty normally. Jeans, black tee shirt, sneakers, plain blue button down open over the tee. Nothing... fabulous. No pins, sequins, no designer bag. Nothing... Kurt.

"He's still here, not at Dalton? Is... Karofsky still tormenting him? Didn't anyone else step in?"

"He never visited Dalton, never met that Blaine kid. Never had a reason to. No glee club, remember? So no need to spy on them. No connection with another kid who'd been through what he was going through. And without that, and a teacher who actually noticed and stepped in." Ryan shrugged. "He never made friends with Finn, or Mike, or even Artie. Or the girls. Puck never stopped picking on him.

"He did try to play football, but he got hurt in practice. Tackled by Azimio, actually. Sprained his knee; if they'd been playing it would have been a penalty for roughing the kicker. Defensive team made no attempt to protect him. They made it clear that they didn't want him there. He never came out to his dad; he's still terrified that his father will throw him out once he finds out he's gay. All the money he'd have spent on clothes has gone into a secret account, just in case, and he's trying to blend in until he can leave Lima in two years."

Will watched as Kurt finished swapping his books, noting the changes in his posture and the way he looked around before he entered the flow of traffic. He held his books tight against his chest, and stuck close to the wall when he could. And when a clump of boys in red jackets (including Finn and Puck as well as Karofsky and Azimio) came down the corridor, he ducked into a classroom until they passed.

Tina passed him, and didn't smile. Mercedes looked away as she went by, moving across the corridor, seemingly just to avoid him; she met up with Matt, who put an arm around her. Santana and Brittany turned their backs pointedly and ignored him. Only Rachel gave him a sad, sympathetic look as he moved past her, but didn't approach him.

Kurt went into the library, and the two men followed him. He found a seat at a table out of sight from most of the library, and slumped into it, his face hidden in his folded arms, and Will could see his shoulders begin to shake almost imperceptibly. Ryan took Will's arm and drew him away.

"But, what about Sue? I mean... he was one of her Cheerios..." Will twisted around to keep watching Kurt as Ryan pulled him away.

Ryan shook his head. "Never tried out. Never had the confidence to. And he and Mercedes aren't friends, so... "

Will yanked his arm free, shaking his head vehemently. "No. Kurt is too strong for this. He'd never let them wear him down like that."

Ryan snorted. "Your Kurt had a support system, Will. You. Glee. His dad. Friends." He pulled Will's arm. "Come on, we have places to go." And the corridor faded away.


	2. Chapter 2

2. Artie

They found themselves at the top of a stairway, one Will recognized as a less-traveled one, because it was near the boiler room and always uncomfortably warm. Will felt himself start to sweat immediately (which made no sense, he realized, if he was intangible. Ryan didn't seem to be bothered by the heat...). He was starting to ask what they were doing here, when he noticed the wheelchair at the top of the stairs.

The empty wheelchair.

Ryan pointed down the stairs. There, propped against the wall, sat Artie, staring up at the stairs with a glazed, desperate look in his eyes. Will started to run down the stairs to the boy's side, intending to help him, but Ryan's taunting laughter stopped him halfway down. "You aren't really here, Will," he chided mockingly. "You can't even touch him." Still, Will continued down the stairs more slowly, searching for signs that Artie might be hurt.

To his relief, the young man didn't seem to be injured, just angry, sweaty, and humiliated. As Will stood there helplessly, Artie gave a resigned sigh and pushed himself off from the wall, using his arms to pull himself slowly, painfully, up the stairs. Unable to do anything, and unable to bear watching him for too long, will let his eyes wander the space, vaguely noting a large, wilted-looking poster on the wall; Rachel's smiling face over the Community Theatre logo- starring in their production of the Sound of Music- defaced, of course, with a walrus mustache and vulgar drawings, but still...

When Artie was half-way there, the door opened, (and Artie froze in place, terror in his eyes) and Will heard a voice that made his heart lurch painfully, calling Artie's name. Artie raised his head, his flushed cheeks going even redder than the heat had already made them. For a moment, Will held his (non-existent?) breath. Artie would answer, and Emma would come up here, and he'd see her. She'd help Artie, and this painful experience would end...

But Artie just lay still on the stairs. Emma called out again, her voice more hesitant. "Arthur? Are you there?" Artie still didn't answer, and Will heard himself make a strangled, frustrated noise. "Emma!" he called out, hearing the door begin to swing shut, but neither Artie nor Emma heard him, of course. After a moment, Artie raised his head, swiped angrily at the tears tracking slowly down his sweat-sheened face, and began the painful process of dragging himself up the stairs again on shaking arms.

He reached the chair and heaved himself up into it with a herculean effort, and lay, panting against the arm of the chair for a long moment. As he rested there, the bell rang, and the sounds of feet and voices in the hallway seemed to spur him back into motion. Opening the door from this side was a precarious job, since it opened into the staircase, and hauling on it brought the wheels of the chair perilously close to the edge of the stairs, but Artie managed to do it, and got himself through the door and into the stream of traffic just as the lower door opened again. Will heard someone - several someones - run up the stairs, and turned to see Puck, Karofsky, and several other boys in red jackets gather on the landing where Artie had been not so long ago.

"Whaddya know," one of them said in jeering tones, "Wheels got himself out just fine." As Puck started to answer, "Next time, we'll have to..." their voices, and the hallway began to fade from Will's sight, and he heard Ryan say, "Time to go!"

They were in a sort of... not-space, like a darkened stage with a single, very bright, spotlight trained on the tow of them. Squinting after the comparative dimness of the windowless stairway, Will turned on Ryan. "What the hell was that? Puck has been looking out for Artie this last few weeks. He'd never-"

"Leave Artie at the foot of the stairs and take the wheelchair up a flight? Lock him in a porta-john? Maybe not the Puck you know, Will. Maybe the Puck you know has grown and changed. But this one? Never had a reason to. Next!" Will's protest was lost as the stage faded from around them, and all he could do was wonder where they would end up. Which of his kids would he have to watch being miserable now? All he could do was cling to the fact that Emma was still at the school... and that Rachel seemed to be getting ahead with her performing career, even without Glee club.


End file.
